


no sanctuary

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Category: WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e07 Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Post-Episode s01e07: Breaking The Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: She breathes in as if coming awake suddenly. She catches sight of her husband, worried and out of breath.Her brown eyes are empty, reflecting back purple.-Under Agnes's magical influence, Wanda reaches her breaking point.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	1. im lost in the fight

**Author's Note:**

> Yall I watched this video and straight up cried pls check it out for all those sweet sweet wandavision feels: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IxNhTQz5UY

She sits on the couch, hands folded. Her sweater sags over one shoulder, her amber hair loose and tangled. The television hums with static, the walls of her house flickering from whole to broken. Her forehead beads with sweat, there is a scuff mark on her pants and dirt under her nails. She sits unnaturally still, despite the way her heart races, evidence of a fight that must have happened except that she cannot seem to remember it.

The door flys open with a bang, phasing from wood to a screen door, "Wanda!"

The voice speaks again, breathless, urgent, worried, "...Wanda?"

The woman on the couch doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. The footsteps move closer and then, Vision steps around the corner of the sofa. He eyes her carefully, kneeling down to look up at her, "Wanda, are you alright, love?"

She breathes in as if coming awake suddenly. She catches sight of her husband, worried and out of breath. Her brown eyes are empty, reflecting back purple, "Vision. You’re back."

He nods, careful, concerned, "Are you okay, Wanda?"

Her lips curve upwards, relief and something more in her eyes, "I am now."

"Wanda... I- I came to talk. About the Hex."

Her brows furrow, voice suddenly all hard edges, dipping into a cruel steeliness, "I thought we discussed this. I thought it was  _over_ , Vision."

"No, no, no Wanda, this is about something else. I  know now. I know everything. About- about the avengers. About myself. And I wanted to tell you that I understand, Wanda." He places his hand over hers, earnest and loving, "We can get through this,  _together_ -“

Wanda flares, standing up in a single, jerky movement as if she had been pulled. He moves back, rising to his feet as she does so, buoyant, graceful. Her voice is hard and full of wrath. She doesn’t quite know why, " _No_ , Vision." 

He stands still, watching her. She is furious, all of a sudden- angry in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. And not only that, she is angry at  _him._ She gestures outward, at the house, clean and pristine one moment then rotting wood and cobweb beams the next, "Can’t you see that this is all for you?"

He reaches out to take her hand. He grips tight but her fingers are limp in his grasp. She does not hold him back, "Yes, Wanda, I know that now. I do. I promise, we can work this out. We don’t need to keep on like this, though. There are other- other ways. Ways without keeping all these people hostage- without you losing yourself-“

She lashes out, pushing him away instinctively and he startles backwards, barely phasing through her magic in time.  ~~ _That shouldn’t have happened. She’d never attacked him, not on purpose- not like- not like-_ ~~ She turns her back to him, snarling, "Don’t speak to me of the greater good- of losing myself. Not after all I have endured. Not after losing you over and over and _over_ again, all for the cost of others. I am tired of it. I am tired of losing _you_ for the sake of _others_." 

His brows furrow with worry, with  _love_ and  _concern_ for  _her_. Somehow that only makes her angrier, "Wanda..."

Her eyes flare, scarlet and purple with rage, and his frown deepens suddenly, as if her mind had touched his, "Wait, Wanda..." he glances around the house, as if suddenly noticing the strange stillness of the room- of the world. But it’s only in this perfect eerie stillness that she reaches true clarity for the first time in weeks. She straightens, turning to face him. He is focused on the house, collapsing around them. Her eyes burn, she knows what must be done, "Wanda, something is not quite right here."

Her voice is low and cold, rising with each word, "Some of us do not have the luxury of being able to think about the greater good." He glances at her, eyes widening as her pain reaches a crescendo, "You don't know what it is like to be the one left behind!" She screams, the wave of red shattering the windows and sending her husband flying.

She follows him into the sky and he barely deflects her next wild attack, "Wanda, please, this isn’t like you-!”

"How could you know of  _my_ pain?" The next throw hits him, sends him careening into the ground. Dirt and rock fly, carving a furrow, a scar into the earth. He stumbles to his feet as she storms over to him, fury screaming at her to finish it. To end this endless agony.

He holds up his hands pleadingly, form flickering like her house, broken like her illusion, "I won’t fight you, Wanda." 

She lashes out, tears choking her, sending him flying,  _"You should!_ "

A telephone pole snaps on impact. Vision doesn’t get back up. Not that she can see. The light around her dims and then flares, reflecting back violet power. The air pulses around her, bends and cracks scarlet. ~~_She doesn’t want to be doing this._~~ She is screaming, hands on her head, covering her ears. She doesn’t know what is happening. ~~_This isn’t her._~~ Vision is before her again, bruised and battered, speaking to her but she can’t make out what he is saying.

His form flickers, like a last gasp of yellow-gold, his lips move again, gray and lifeless, and she sees- she sees-  _death._

She is  _afraid._

Afraid for  _him._

Afraid of _herself_ , afraid of how her hands tremble, afraid of the grief she no longer wants to feel, afraid of the fury that builds and builds and  _builds. ~~Someone else is in her mind.~~_

She is angry.

Angry at him.

He  _left._

She is angry at the world.

They took him from her.

They took  _everything._

~~_“I don’t even know who you are.”  
_ ~~

~~_“You will.”_ ~~

She snarls, reaches out her hands and pulls, digging deep within, Vision does not resist, instead he pulls her close, embracing her dark and thorny edges. He presses her sins to his lips and consumes them all, forgiveness and love destroying her more throughly than any bullet or missile or killing blow could. He holds her close and dies and dies and _dies again_ , for her, for the world, over and over, despite everything. They don’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve it.

She just wants the pain to stop.

" _I just feel you._ "

She lashes out at the closest thing to her in her desperation, the violet-crimson storm filling her heart and pulling at her hair, battering their forms. Wanda tears blindly, free falling in her agony.

In a world where she does not know friend from foe, reality shatters as she rips the golden stone from Vision's head for the second, and final, time. 


	2. no place to hide

The world explodes in a kaleidoscope of violet, crimson, and gold. She screams, throat splitting apart as she tears backwards, her normally smooth magic jagged and angry, scarlet spitting sparks of unfamiliar, foreign, invasive purple.

She falls to her knees howling, the storm clouds billow around her and then-

The storm stops.

She stands still and alone, breathing heavily, in a windswept field. She does not know how she got here. She can’t... she can’t remember-

In her hands are yellow crystalline shards, pulsating with life.

Something about them is familiar to her.

She doesn’t know why.

Wanda blinks. She’s not sure of what just happened, her mind a wild fog of images and words, hands and magic that she can't seem to parse. Her hair is wild, her jacket is torn, she feels traces of a remembered fury not her own. Even now it leeches from her limbs, draining away somewhere else. She studies the pieces of stone again. They are definitely familiar to her, in some way.

A slow clapping noise greets her ears and she looks up wide-eyed from her hand to see Agnes, applauding her. The woman stops, clasps her hands together, and smiles. For some reason it makes Wanda's stomach churn, "Well done, Wanda. I didn’t think you had it in you, but my my my, you’ve sure impressed me."

She shakes her head, brow furrowed, "What...? I- I don’t..."

Agnes laughed, waving a hand at her, no, not at her but at her feet, "Oh don’t worry, hun! It’ll come back to you!" She adds conspiratorially, "Look down, sweetheart. That’ll speed things up."

Wanda blinks and looks down to the wet grass. Her heart stops, her breath turning to ice in her throat. The shards of stone in her hand pulse accusingly. Vision lies crumpled at her feet, eyes open, grey, sightless, and unseeing- exactly the way that they are in her nightmares.

The hole in his head is just as it had been in all her torturous memories, ragged and wounded, all twisted wires, jagged edges, and torn steel. As if someone had reached into his mind and pulled his very soul out. She falls to her knees, a low keening building in her throat. Tears blur her vision and she chokes on horror. But... how? Had she-?

Agnes- no  _Agatha_ , laughs, "Oh please dear. He wasn’t even real, not really. Just something I conjured up. With a little help, of course. We can’t actually cure  _death_ you know."

Flashes of anger, of fury, a rage not her own. A magic like hers, twisting the world around her into fractals of lies and shards of bitter malevolence. Feelings that both weren’t and were her own. She had- she  _had_ .

~~ _She had killed him again._ ~~

Agatha's voice grates, words sharp as the edge of a sword, but Wanda isn’t thinking of that, no her heart hurts, burning with a new fire, something so _close_ to the edge, so  close to running over- “He was  _never_ real, Wanda."   


Wanda bows her head, shaking hand covering her mouth as a sob rips its way out of her. 

Agatha scoffs, "Oh, please. He didn’t even matter that much."

Wanda's fists clench around the shards of the infinity stone at that. Illusionary or not, they pierce her skin all the same. Blood wells in her palm. Her scarlet blazing eyes lift up to meet Agatha's gaze.

Agatha's grin widens, sharp and full of teeth, as she breathes, "There you are, Wanda."

Wanda pushes herself to her feet and stands tall, lips curling, light flickering off of the tears staining her cheeks. Her accent colors her speech, hard and angry and furious, "You wanted me, Agatha Harkness? Well, here I am."

Agatha's hands glow, violet and crackling, her voice smug and confident, "Oh, we have such  _plans_ for you, Wanda."

Wanda's magic responds to her, sparking wildly around her bloody fists, no longer tainted purple by the hypnosis. Her husband's body lies still at her feet for the third time. The third and  _final_ time.

No more. 

She glances between Agatha and Vision.

A choice.

_"I know now. I know everything. I understand, Wanda. We can get through this, together-"_

~~ _"We are out of time-“_ ~~

_"There are other- other ways. Ways without keeping all these people hostage- without you losing yourself-"_

~~ _"It shouldn’t be you, but it is."_ ~~

_"I won’t fight you, Wanda."_

~~ _"It’s alright. You could never hurt me."_ ~~

_"I love you-“_

She chooses-

Wanda steps forward, Agatha braces herself for an attack but receives no such thing. Wanda kneels down again instead, ignoring her completely, knees dampened by the morning dew.

Agatha groans, disappointed, "Please, Wanda. We've been over this."

She doesn’t look up, concentrating, hands cupping her husband's face, a perfect mirror of his corpse four weeks or five years or two minutes ago. The air crackles around her, pulsating scarlet. Tears trail down her cheeks, the blood on her fingers matches the color of his skin, the shards of stone  _glows_ .

Agatha glowers at them and unleashes a bolt of energy, irritation fueling her magic, "I am getting tired of this, Wanda!"

Around her, the world burns red. Violet slams into a growing and suddenly visible wall of crimson before fizzling harmlessly away. Agatha takes a step back, the sphere of pure power  _grows_ , the ground crackling and humming, pulsating energy crawling across it, being drawn towards it, towards  _Wanda_ . Agatha looks around, and then up, eyes widening as she sees the hex, impossibly, shrinking, pulled inwards toward an invisible well of gravity.

Agatha's voice goes thin and shrill, "Wait, no- what are you doing?"

Wanda ignores her, eyes glowing red-hot, skin crackling with power, hair flying free as she bends down over Vision. The world blooms a luminescent crimson. Wanda  _glows_ .

Wanda presses her lips to his, tasting salt and iron and steel, blood, flesh, and tears, desperation, adoration, and a complete and utter lack of surrender.

_"I just feel you."_

Agatha screams.

The world explodes in a shockwave of scarlet and gold.

* * *

Wanda sobs, screams, holding Vision close, head buried in his neck.

Agatha's body lays twisted on the flattened grass, her limbs contorted, face frozen in a rictus of pain and terror. The trees beyond the rolling hills lay flat, pressed into the bent grass. The power lines snap and fizz, their wires bent and poles sticking sideways, pointing towards the horizon.

The hex is gone.

Wanda is alone, again.

She rocks back and forth, cradling her husband's body, a mirror of only weeks ago, "I’m sorry, Vis. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. Not without you."

She weeps.

For her brother.

For her two sons.

For her husband, dead again.

A quiet whisper interrupts her sorrow, something soft and warm but weak and  achingly familiar, "You say that Wanda, but somehow, I suspect that you have underestimated yourself again."

Her grip loosens, breath hitching. A hand grips weakly back. She lifts her head, eyes wide with disbelief and  _hope_ , hair shielding her from the world.

Blue eyes meet hers, aware and awake and  _alive_ . A red hand reaches up and cups her cheek. He brushes her tears away with his thumb. His smile is tired and soft, "Wanda, love, it certainly has been quite the week."

She crumples into his arms.

He pulls her close, both of them folding inwards around each other.

The gem, whole and intact on his forehead, pulses.

Vision and Wanda embrace, foreheads pressed together as they whisper quietly to each other, words of choked wet laughter and sweet nothings, reassurances, apologies, and wonder.

No matter what happens now, they are whole again and they will face it all together.

* * *

_'We cannot cure death,' Agatha had said._

_But she had spoken only for herself._

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is here: https://ford-ye-fiji.tumblr.com/


End file.
